


Wolf Whistle

by thesearchforbluejello



Series: Normal Jobs [3]
Category: Whiskey Cavalier (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, based on 1x11 College Confidential, characters based on their aliases again because I can't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-13 03:43:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18932710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesearchforbluejello/pseuds/thesearchforbluejello
Summary: It turns out to be a very interesting semester.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welp here's the next Normal Jobs fic. I just can't help myself with these. It was supposed to be short then ended up 8k, so. There are multiple chapters. Apparently.

It’s been two years since the first time she name checked Keith Hewson in a paper. Name checked is maybe an understatement, considering her paper was a direct refutation of his recent publication on Jane Eyre, but she’d tried to be conscientious and not dismiss his entire argument in one fell swoop. 

He hadn’t been so considerate. 

He’d published his paper on the carnal freedoms implicit in the narrative structure of Jane Eyre the following spring. She’d been surprised to see that not only had she been name checked in turn, but he’d rejected her paper in nothing more than two short, dismissive sentences. That was a low blow and Amy had spent many long nights reading and rereading that paper until she’d found every point she could possibly argue against. 

Her response was published eight months after his.

The whole time they’ve somehow been dodging each other at conferences, but when Amy applies for a guest lecturing position at a university in Romania for a semester to get away from NYU and finds out that she’s not only been accepted but will be co-lecturing a course with that very same Keith Hewson, she knows the convenient series of accidents that have kept them from meeting have finally run out.

It’s not that she holds any antagonism towards him; academia is academia and she’s under no illusions that it isn’t a brutal beast. It’s just that she doesn’t like him very much.

She’s teaching summer courses at NYU and knows she won’t make it to Romania until just before the semester starts. Hewson’s already there, though, teaching this academic year on loan from UC Berkley. He’s already gotten approval for the course design, so Amy knows she’ll be very much in the passenger seat for the lectures unless she asserts herself. She’s resigned herself to it and when she finally gets the directions to set up her email account she has an email waiting.

 

 

Hello Dr. Brenner,

I just wanted to reach out and welcome you to the faculty for the semester. I was hoping to speak to you over the phone this week so we can discuss the course structure and topics. Let me know what your schedule looks like and we’ll find some time.

I look forward to working with you.

\-- KH

Amy frowns and rereads the email. She rolls her eyes. He sounds so very enthusiastic.

 

 

Hello Dr. Hewson,

Thank you. I think you’re right that it’s best for us to begin immediately, but I’m afraid I’m likely unavailable this week with my teaching schedule and the time difference considered. I’ve shared my calendar with you. If you send me the syllabus and any lecture notes you’ve already compiled I can get a feel for what you have in mind.

Cheers,  
Dr. Brenner

She can already tell that the time difference is going to be a problem when she doesn’t get a response until the following day.

 

 

Hello Dr. Brenner,

Quite a busy summer term you’re having. I’ve attached the syllabus and notes as you requested. I’m eager to hear any thoughts you have. Clearly we can’t manage a call this week, but we can aim for next week.

\--KH

She agrees with the reading list, at least, but she’s got a few major qualms with some of the arguments he’s presenting in his lecture notes. 

 

 

Hello Dr. Hewson,

I’ve reviewed the materials. I’ve attached my additional notes. I also think it would be wise for us to reschedule that call.

Cheers,  
Dr. Brenner.

 

 

Hello Dr. Brenner,

I’ve just been asked to cover two additional sections of Intro to Lit this term for a professor who’s unexpectedly gone on medical leave; he’ll hopefully be back in three weeks. I’ll review your notes. We’ll find a time to touch base soon.

\--KH

And that’s how it goes for the whole summer. Things are constantly popping up that they don’t expect and Hewson ends up teaching those two sections for the rest of the term when the other professor extends his leave.

Amy gets to Romania two days before the start of the term. 

They tell her what her office number is and she walks down the hall trying to read the out of order number plates on the doors. She finds four-fifteen and pushes the door open without realizing that the office is occupied.

“Sorry-- office hours aren’t for another couple hours,” the professor says as he pushes a book back into its place on the top shelf of the bookcase.

“Oh, no, sorry-- I think they gave me the wrong office number.”

He turns. “Oh! You must be Dr. Brenner!” He rushes forward with a smile to shake her hand. “I wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon.” He’s still smiling and she knows she must be giving him a weird look when it fades a bit in wattage. “I’m Keith,” he says. “Keith Hewson?”

“Oh!” she says. “You’re-- oh.” She’s trying not to embarrass herself, but he’s very much not what she expected. She’s never seen a picture of the man but from the savagery with which he writes and the stiffness of his emails, she hadn’t exactly expected big green eyes and an easy smile. “It’s good to finally meet you, Dr. Hewson.”

“Keith," he corrects.

“Amy,” she says. “I didn’t mean to drop in on you without warning. This is the office number they gave me.”

“That would be because, uh, because we’re sharing.” 

“We’re what now?” she says.

“Yeah, I would’ve let you know, but I only found out a few minutes ago. The good news, though, is that I’m teaching three courses this term, so you’ll have the office mostly to yourself. I’m happy to share. Plus,” he says, pointing, “I have that big comfy chair, so, I mean, there’s enough seating, at least.”

She studies him for a moment and realizes he actually doesn’t mind sharing the space.

“It’s just-- I was told I’d have my own office so I’d have plenty of peace and quiet to work. This is technically my sabbatical.”

“I know, but,” he points down to the floor and she presumes he means the floor below them, “mold.”

“Oh good,” she says.

“So, I mean, it’s me or the mold.” She must look as crestfallen as she feels because he says, “Hey, why don’t we go out to lunch? I know a great restaurant just off campus, and we can finally discuss the course.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.”

She follows him through the crowded halls and out of the building into the bright fall air. 

“So,” he says, “you’re from NYU.”

“Yeah?”

“I applied for a vacant position there. A little closer to home,” he says with a smile.

“Where are you from?”

“Indiana.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a bit closer than California.”

“Just a bit,” he laughs.

She smiles a little but isn’t really sure why. She’s definitely got a bit of whiplash from this. She’d guessed his age, more or less, by having read when he was awarded his degrees, but she hadn’t expected six feet of lean muscle that makes him look more like a soccer player who’d accidentally dressed like a college professor than a stereotypical academic. It’s definitely putting her off her step and she hopes that whiplash will fade soon.

“Anyway,” he says, “I’m looking forward to working with you. I haven’t ever had the chance to teach a class like this with a gender studies professor before.”

“Gender studies and literature,” she corrects automatically. “My PhD is in literature.”

“I know,” he says, obviously a bit confused. She’s a little surprised that she knows which of the two fields she’d earned her PhD in, but then she knows she shouldn’t be surprised that the professor she’s teaching a course with has done his research on her career. She certainly researched his. “You get that a lot, don’t you,” he says. “People dismissing it.”

“I’m sure you can imagine,” she says.

“I can. I didn’t meant to seem like I was.”

“No, no, I just-- it’s reflexive,” she laughs. He smiles. “I did my undergrad at an all women’s college and I learned that if you budge an inch, people will take a mile. So you never give them that inch.” She shrugs.

“How’d you end up at Oxford?” 

She looks at him in surprise at his curiosity. He really has done his research. “My parents were from England. When I graduated from undergrad I wanted to go back, so I did my Master’s at Oxford. Ended up back in the States for my doctorate, though.”

Keith turns the corner of the street where the university ends and meets the busier town streets. He holds the door open for her at the restaurant just around that corner and she steps into the cool air. It’s a small place but smells amazing.

They sit at one of the tables and Keith digs into his bag for his portfolio as Amy sets her notebook on the table. “I liked the notes you sent,” he says. “I disagreed, but I like your arguments.”

“Good,” Amy says. “I disagreed with yours.” 

Keith smiles.

**

They end up working until ten and Keith only remembers the time difference when he realizes that Amy doesn’t look nearly as exhausted as he feels. He leans back in his chair and scrubs his hands over his face. 

“We should call it a night,” he says. 

Amy glances at the clock. “Oh,” she says. “It doesn’t feel that late.”

“To you, maybe,” he laughs.

She closes her notebook. “I have some unpacking to do, anyway, I suppose.”

“Are you living in faculty housing?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. It’s not so bad. It’s nice to be close to campus, anyway,” Keith says. Amy shrugs. “Don’t like sharing your space?”

She pulls her bag onto her lap and looks at him shrewdly. Keith wonders if he’s misstepped. “Not so much,” she says.

Keith locks the office behind them. “You know,” he says to change the subject, “they say this building is haunted.”

Amy snorts. “Every university with buildings built before 1950 claims they’re haunted.” They’re walking down the stairs when one of the lights flickers. Keith tenses, pausing. He jumps when Amy laughs. “Come on, scaredy cat.”

“Funny,” he says drily and she grins sidelong at him. He’s not exactly sure what he’d been expecting. Sure, he’d been expecting her to be bold and uncompromising after seeing the way she writes, but with the dissociation of personality versus rigor in academic writing he knows that you can’t always judge academics based on the way they write. He had been right about her in that regard, yet he hadn’t expected her cutting humor or that teasing smile. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled when they told him he’d be co-lecturing with her, but he’d been at least optimistic about the opportunity. After meeting her, he’s looking forward to it.

It’ll be interesting, at the very least.


	2. Chapter 2

They have lunch together the next day in the university dining hall. Keith drops his bag at a table already occupied and Amy follows suit.

“Hi! You must be Amy; I’m Carmen Veracruz, I teach psychology.” Carmen stands and reaches across the table to shake Amy’s hand.

“Vijay Parikh. Astrophysics.” He shakes Amy’s hand as well. “You can call me Jay.”

“It’s good to meet both of you,” Amy says.

“We’re the American crew,” Keith says.

“Well, I have dual citizenship,” Jay says.

“So do I,” Carmen adds.

Amy winces. “So do I.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Amy laughs. “Oh good,” Keith says drily.

“Hi! I’m Jake!” He sets his plate down on the table and if Jay hadn’t snatched his glass of water out of the way he would have knocked it over. Amy shakes his enthusiastically offered hand.

“Jake coaches club rugby,” Keith says.

“Yup!” Jake says as he drags his chair forward. 

“Oh,” Amy says. “Cool.”

“Very,” Jake says earnestly.

“Okay,” Keith says and heads toward the food. He sees Amy shoot him a curious look as she follows.

“You don’t seem to like him much,” she says. There’s that shrewdness again and her directness puts Keith a little off his footing.

“He irritates me.”

“Mm. I can tell.” 

She’s teasing him. He can’t help but smile.

**

They get wolf whistled in their first lecture. Amy’s pretty sure it’s the American kid Reggie, but she’d been too busy looking at Keith to really notice.

She’s co-lectured a few courses before, something unsurprising given the interdisciplinary nature of the gender studies field, but she’s never found herself flirting with the other professor.

In her defense, he started it.

She focuses on erasing the board as the last of the students trail out and when she feels Keith looking at her she dusts the chalk off her hands, picks up her bag, and leaves.   
**

“So,” Carmen says as Keith sits down at the table with his lunch. “I heard you and Amy had an interesting first lecture.”

“You could say that,” he says, spearing a potato with his fork.

“Oh, it’s not me saying that. It’s all your students.”

He glances up at her to see that her eyebrows are raised and she’s looking at him with obvious amusement. “You think it’s funny?”

“What’s better than a gender and sexuality course with some actual sexual tension?”

“Please.”

“Come on, Keith. I don’t have to be a chemistry professor to see _that_ chemistry.”

“Funny.”

“I think she’d be good for you,” Carmen says.

“We have to teach together,” he says.

Carmen holds her hands up. “It’s none of my business.”

“It’s not,” he says stiffly. He doesn’t look up even though he knows she’s studying his face. “How’s abnormal psych?”

“Ooh, very interesting. In the first section I have three students who are definitely sleeping together, but I’m not sure yet if it’s a poly relationship or if they don’t actually realize they’re all sleeping together. And then in the second section I have a cute little couple, except he’s cheating on her with a girl that sits in the row behind them and the girlfriend is cheating on him with a girl in the first section.”

“Wow,” Keith says.

“Yeah,” Carmen says. “It’s going to be a great semester.” She’s still smiling at him like she knows something he doesn’t and he frowns. 

“Hey, party people!” Jake says. “What’s up with you?” he asks Keith. “You look, I don’t know, sad.”

“He got wolf whistled.”

“Carmen!” Keith protests.

She shrugs. “He did.”

“Nice!” Jake says. “Wait-- why is that a bad thing?”

Keith shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” Amy asks as she sits down beside him.

“Nothing,” Keith says.

“Obviously something,” Jay says as he sets his plate down and unslings his bag from his shoulder.

“Anyway,” Carmen says, looking at Jay, “how was your first class today?”

“Delightful,” Jay says drily. “They all blinked at me like tiny little frogs from a mud puddle.” Amy snorts and Jay actually smiles. “Some of them might even pass,” he says, more mildly.


	3. Chapter 3

The first half of the semester passes in the same routine. Amy and Keith lecture Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings. She spends most of her free time in Keith’s office, working on her upcoming paper as the deadline approaches. They trade off between the desk and the big-comfy-chair, as Keith calls it.

“Amy,” he says. “Amy.” He nudges her foot with his toe. She startles awake, sitting up in the big-comfy-chair. 

“Ugh. What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Ugh.”

“I forgot my phone and came to get it,” he says. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He pauses. “You’re working yourself too hard.”

“No I’m not.”

“I’m not even sure you’ve slept since last semester.”

“I’ve slept,” she says defensively.

“Have you had fun? At all, since you’ve been here?”

“I’m not here for fun,” she says.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have some. I’m meeting Jay, Carmen, and Jake for drinks. Come with us.”

“I should really turn in for the night.”

“Amy, it’s eight-thirty. You’re no fun,” he warns.

“I’m loads of fun,” she says, shoving her notebook into her bag.

“Good, let’s go.”

“Fine.” She shoves her phone and her keys in her pockets and leaves her bag where it is.

They get a lot drunker than she bargained for.

They end up playing Heads Up on Jake’s phone and Carmen turns it into a drinking game. The drunker they get, the worse the game gets. It’s a terrible system and they end up having a lot more fun than Amy expected.

They stumble out of the bar at one o’clock in the morning. It’s cold on the street and she can see the clouds of steam dissipate into the air as they exhale. She breathes out and watches it cloud the clear, sharp air. It sobers her up a little.

Jay and Carmen are trying to wrangle Jake back into moving the right direction down the street but Keith is beside her.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she admits with a smile. “But I’m going to wake up with a hell of a hangover.”

“Oh me too,” he says, “for sure.” He smiles.

They’re standing in the yellow glare of a streetlight and Amy thinks he’s going to kiss her. She thinks she wants him to kiss her. She thinks she might kiss him if he doesn’t make the first move like she thinks he will. He unwinds his scarf and wraps it around her neck until his hands are just holding the ends. She’s sure he’s going to kiss her. Their faces are just inches apart and she sees his eyes dart to her lips. She smiles and so does he.

“Hey party people!” Jake yells and they both jump.

“I’m going to drop you,” Jay snaps. Jay and Carmen have Jake supported between them, his arms over their shoulders, Carmen’s hand on his chest to keep him from pitching forward.

“Okay,” Keith says, “let’s get him home.”

He follows Jay and Carmen as they drag Jake along and as soon as they’ve moved in front of him, he slips his hand into Amy’s.

They end up saying goodbye on the sidewalk as everyone goes to their separate buildings. Amy smiles and Keith smiles back. 

Carmen grins as she unlocks the door to their building.

“What?” Amy asks even though she knows the answer.

“Oh, nothing.”

**

[Keith Hewson][8:30:41am]  
How’s your hangover?  
[Amy Brenner][8:31:15am]  
Worse than yours, apparently. You woke me up.  
[Keith Hewson][8:31:50am]  
Sorry. I’m making breakfast; I’d be willing to share if you don’t want to cook this morning.  
[Amy Brenner][8:33:10am]  
I think I’m going to die if I even move.  
[Keith Hewson][8:33:38am]  
Well, if I do say so myself, this course is best served with a freshly uncapped bottle of Advil, aged approximately not at all.  
[Amy Brenner][8:34:45am]  
Has anyone ever told you that you’re a huge dork?  
[Keith Hewson][8:35:14am]  
I’m a professor. I’m pretty sure it’s required.  
[Amy Brenner][8:35:21am]  
Are you saying I’m also a huge dork?  
[Keith Hewson][8:35:52am]  
What? No, of course not. Not at all. Please.  
[Amy Brenner][8:36:34am]  
Forget it, dork. I’m going back to sleep.  
[Keith Hewson][8:36:52am]  
But pancakes.  
[Amy Brenner][8:37:26am]  
But SUNLIGHT.  
[Keith Hewson][8:37:58am]  
It’s cloudy.  
[Amy Brenner][8:38:15am]  
FINE just let me shower first.

She knows she looks like shit when she shows up at his door. He lets her in without a word, though, and goes back to the stove to flip the pancake in the pan. She settles at the table where, as promised, he’s set a bottle of Advil.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she says.

“Does that make you a damsel in distress?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Please,” she says drily. Keith laughs and delivers the pancake to her plate. “I haven’t been this hungover since grad school,” she admits.

“But it was fun,” he says, emphasizing it with the spatula. “If you remember all of it, then you’re good, hangover or no. It’s when you can’t remember it that you’ve wasted your time,” he laughs.

She smiles and cuts into her pancake with her fork. She can’t help but look at him as he turns back to the stove. It’s Saturday morning and he’s just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, walking around the tiny studio apartment in his socks, but she has to admit that he looks just as attractive from behind.

She looks back to her pancake as he turns over his shoulder. She hopes she doesn’t look as flustered as she feels that she almost got caught staring at his ass, but she doesn’t look up to see him smile.

They chat idly through breakfast and she does the dishes as Keith cleans up the table.

She dries her hands on the towel and frowns. “I should probably get to work,” she says.

“Or,” Keith says, “you could go to the outdoor market with me.”

“I know what this is,” Amy says, brandishing the towel. “This is all some elaborate plot to make me have _fun_. You get me drunk, then you make me breakfast, and now you’re trying to drag me to some market? I’m not having it, sir.”

Keith puts his hand to his chest in mock offense. “I assure you my intentions are pure.”

“Are they?” Amy jokes and then realizes as soon as she’s said it that it’s way too close to something they’ve both been avoiding. Something that gets them wolf whistled in class.

Keith just shrugs noncommittally. “It would be fun, though. There’s all kinds of stuff there.”

“Fine. Sure.” She says it reluctantly but she smiles anyway.

It starts pouring after they’ve only been there for an hour. They walk back to the university with their feet squishing in wet shoes and their jeans soaked through. “I have to stop at the office,” Amy says. “I left my bag there last night.”

“Okay.”

Keith follows her up the flights of stairs, their shoes squeaking on the floor. She unlocks the office and he moves over to the window to look out over the square of lawn below. Amy slings her bag over her shoulder and moves toward the door again. Keith turns and as he cross the small office again, the lights go out. Amy hears him trip on the desk and moves forward to catch him; he slams into her and brings his arm around her shoulders to brace himself. 

The lights come back on as she’s standing there with her hands on his chest, his arm around her shoulders and his opposite hand on her hip. They freeze for a second, caught in surprise.

They’ll argue later over who kissed whom because neither of them are ever really sure.

He moves the hand he had on her shoulder to tangle his fingers in her hair. She tilts her head back to create a less awkward angle.

Amy’s the one who breaks it when it dawns on her belatedly that they’re kissing in the middle of their office.

Keith leans back. “Ghosts,” he says.

Amy raises her eyebrows. “Weather,” she says.

“Definitely ghosts,” he says.

“How Dickensian.”

Keith laughs. They’re still standing too close together and both seem to realize it at the same moment and step apart.

“We can’t--” Amy says.

“I know,” Keith agrees. 

She nods and leads the way out of the office. The lights flicker again as they’re on the stairs. When the door of the building shuts behind them, Amy slips her hand into his, lacing their fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very upset. But I will reiterate: I'm working on a project.


	4. Chapter 4

“So,” Carmen says. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Keith asks, feigning innocence even though he knows Carmen can read him like one of the psych textbooks she assigns her students.

“You’ve been looking for Amy more than you’ve been eating your lunch.”

“She wasn’t in the office today. Actually, I haven’t seen her since lecture yesterday.”

“Maybe she just needs a little space,” Carmen suggests. “Maybe she feels awkward about you guys making out.”

“We didn’t ‘make out’,” Keith protests.

“Ooh, I was kidding, but tell me more.”

Keith glares at her. “It was just a kiss.”

“A kiss with two and a half months of repressed sexual tension behind it,” she says.

“You make it sound so dramatic.”

“It is kind of dramatic,” she says. “Look, sweetie, life is too short to let opportunities pass you by. The two of you could be good together.”

“We need to finish this course,” Keith points out. “I don’t want things getting weird.”

“I mean, things are already a little weird, but look,” she says, “we’ve got, what, six weeks left until the end of the semester?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go. Keep being friends. Then decide if you want to make your move. Unless she does first, because she might.”

“She might,” he agrees.

**

They make it three more weeks before she does.

They go out to dinner together and it’s not a date, if either of them are asked about it, but they definitely passed by being colleagues or even friends when they kissed in the office and both of them know it.

He slips his hand into hers as they leave the restaurant and Amy laces their fingers together. They don’t say much as they walk.

It’s gotten late, the streetlights the only illumination, casting yellow light that collects in syrupy pools on the pavement. The faculty houses are silhouetted against a sky that’s darkened to indigo. 

“Sometimes,” Amy says suddenly, in a split second decision that later she’ll realize changed everything, “it makes me think about how lucky we are, living now. Jane Eyre couldn’t directly pursue what she wanted; she was trapped within the confines of her society and had to obey those social norms and constructions. I mean, we do to, of course, but we have more freedom.”

“It depends on what you mean by ‘directly pursue,’ and I think Jane did pursue what she wanted, but continue,” Keith says.

“What I mean is that we have a freedom that she didn’t. She couldn’t just pursue carnal desire.”

“Where is this going?” he asks.

She disentangles her fingers from his to reach up and slide her hands behind his neck, pulling him down to her and kissing him. She parts his lips with hers but he uses the advantage of his height to deepen the kiss. When he pulls away to breathe he looks at her with his pupils blown wide.

“To your apartment?” she suggests in response to the question she’s pretty sure he just forgot.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure if you’re sure.”

“We have to keep it out of the classroom,” he says.

She laughs. “Or we’ll get wolf whistled again.”

“Exactly.”

She smiles at him and he smiles back and they pause a moment, frozen for a moment in the sticky yellow streetlight until he rests a hand on her lower back and they move toward the building. 

They don’t hold hands as they walk up the stairs, just in case anyone is around. There isn’t a fraternization policy for the professors regarding other professors, but rumors are just as vicious as actual disciplinary action. 

When he closes the door behind them, though, Amy knows all discretion is done with. He looks at her and she knows he’s been just as impatient for this as she’s been. They both take a step closer to each other and then they’re chest to chest and he draws in a deep breath through his nose as she kisses him. 

“You know,” he says, “in that first lecture, when you said ‘those who can’t do, teach’, that kind of left me feeling like I have something to prove.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she says as he moves her lips along her neck.

He pulls back to look at her. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing, I just think it might make things more interesting.”

“And here I thought things would already be pretty interesting,” she says breathlessly as he unbuttons her coat.

He smiles at her as he pushes her coat off her shoulders and she’s certain he knows exactly how charming that smile is. But she can’t help smiling back.

There’s a brief moment where they just look at each other, smiling, and then the moment snaps like a piece of chalk and they crash together with even more force than before. Amy pushes her hands under his sweater and pulls the t shirt he’s wearing under it free of his jeans. She slips her hands beneath it and drags her nails down his back. He gasps into her mouth and slides his hands from her hips to her ass to pull her closer against him. She smiles into the kiss and grabs the hem of his shirt and sweater to pull them over his head. He helps her and as she drops them to the floor sets to work unbuttoning her blouse. He pushes it free of her shoulders and follows the slow path of his fingertips along her skin with his mouth. She tilts her head to give him a better angle and tries to remind herself how to breathe.

He works his way back up and hits a sensitive spot just below her jaw; she digs her nails into the skin of his back and he gasps against her throat, a cold sensation against the wet mark he’s left with his mouth that makes her shiver. She rolls her hips against him and he moves his hands back to her ass, which only encourages her to do it again with the added friction of that pressure. She traces her hands over the curves of the muscles in his shoulders and then draws them down his chest until they’re resting on his abs so she can push him backwards towards his bed. 

They end up trying to unbutton each other’s jeans and failing miserably. They step apart laughing and shed their own clothes. He reaches out and runs his hands down her sides as he kisses her again.

“You’re just-- wow,” he says.

“‘Wow’?” she laughs. “You’re a professor of literature and you choose ‘ _wow_ ’ as your adjective?” she says in amused disbelief. 

“You should be flattered. I forgot how to speak English for a moment there.”

“Hm,” she says skeptically, but she’s smiling. “You’re pretty ‘wow’ yourself.” He laughs before she kisses him again. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He steps backwards as she steps forwards and he sits on the bed with her standing between his legs. He can’t seem to decide where to put his hands on her as they kiss and the way he’s moving them is driving her mad. He pushes himself back on the bed and she climbs up after him, settling so she’s sitting on his abs with her knees on either side of his ribs. He pushes himself up with one hand, pulling her down with the other behind her neck, so he can kiss her again.

He rolls them over and kisses his way down her chest with his tongue and reaches over to pull the nightstand drawer open.

Things end up fairly interesting and Amy is anything but disappointed.

At one point she grabs onto his headboard but it squeaks once, loudly, in protest and she lets go of it so fast in fear that it'll break that she almost headbutts Keith in the face as he tries to catch her.

It definitely ruins some of their momentum but they end up laughing so hard over it that Keith has to wipe away tears and Amy has her face pressed into his chest, trying to catch her breath. “That’s obviously a bad idea,” he laughs and rolls them over. Amy looks up at him, intrigued, and he grips her hips, pulling her with him as he sits back on his heels.

“We should take a shower,” he says a while later. 

She turns her head to look at him and drags her knuckles down his bicep. “Or we could take a bath.” He smiles.

They end up taking a shower after the bath.

**

Keith hasn’t even settled into his chair when Carmen slams a hand on the table with a gasp. “You _did_!” Keith looks around in horror but they’re the first two to lunch and no one at the other tables seems to have heard. “Each other, I mean!”

“ _Carmen_!”

“How was it; was it good?”

“God it was _so_ good,” he admits. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t!”

“I know you,” he says. She tilts her head to acknowledge it’s a fair point.

Amy sits down in the empty seat beside him. “What are we talking about?” Keith blushes and Carmen has the decency to look a little flustered. “Oh my god,” Amy says. “You told her?!” she says, looking accusingly at Keith.

“I didn’t-- no, I didn’t say anything!”

“He didn’t have to,” Carmen says with a smile.

“She’s a psych professor!” Keith protests, gesturing at her with both hands, one still holding his fork.

“Oh god,” Amy says. She looks alarmed at the truth having been exposed and underneath that alarm sits something he can almost read as fear. 

“It’s okay sweetie, half his students wish they could do him and you actually got to, so.”

“ _Carmen_!” Keith snaps.

She holds her hands up in surrender.

“This is mortifying,” Amy says. “We’re teaching together!” Keith is a little thrown off by her reaction since she’s the one who’d made the first move, but he was hoping to avoid attention until the end of the semester too, so he can understand her frustration. 

“You did a lot more than ‘ _teach_ ’ together,” Carmen says. Keith glares at her. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry; I’m done.”

“What are you done with?” Jake asks as he sits down, his chair squealing as he drags it across the floor.

“Oh, nothing,” Carmen says.

Keith drops his hand under the table and adjusts his chair for good measure but gives Amy’s knee a gentle, reassuring squeeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a line, let me know if you're enjoying this fic!


	5. Chapter 5

The faculty football game is the week of finals.

Amy and Keith end up on opposite teams.

“Want to bet five _lei_ who wins?” he asks with that smile she’s learned poses a threat to her ability to say no.

“Sure,” Amy agrees. “Do you have your wallet on you? You can just give it to me now to save yourself some time later.”

Keith’s smile fades into something more genuine. “I was planning on seeing you later anyway,” he says softly, “so I think I’ll just keep it for now.”

That statement makes her so, so nervous because there are so many expectations and implications wrapped up there in a dense little ball and she’s never quite learned how to parse them all. She smiles anyway, nervously, despite trying not to and behind her Jake whistles.

“Are you serious?” Keith says to him.

Jake holds his hands up in surrender.

“What’s your beef with him?” Amy asks. She’s been avoiding it all semester but she’s too curious.

“He cheated on his boyfriend. With Carmen. And she didn’t know he was in a relationship.”

“Oh,” she says. “Wait, wait, wait-- Carmen slept with _him_?”

“Yeah, not her finest decision ever.”

“I-- eugh.” Amy shakes her head and Keith laughs at her expression of disgust.

“Let’s make this more interesting,” Keith suggests. 

“Oh?” Amy says, raising her eyebrows.

“Loser buys dinner.”

“Sure. Make sure you take me somewhere nice.”

“Oh, funny.”

She just smiles.

“Okay party people!” Jake bellows. “Who wants to calls the sides?” He bradishes the coin. Carmen throws her hand into the air and drags Jay forward with her. “Call it as it falls!”

“Tails!” Jay shouts.

It’s tails and Jay and Amy’s team gets the ball first.

The game goes just as badly as Amy knew it would. Her abs end up sore from laughing so hard as she watches the professors trip over themselves, each other, and the ball. 

Then it gets passed to Keith and she realizes that it hadn’t been all empty bravado; he knows how to play. 

She ends up as the defender against him as he brings the ball down the short field. He smiles cockily at her and it makes her decision that much easier. The next thing he knows, he’s hitting the ground from her incredibly illegal slide tackle and she’s passing the ball up the field. Everyone starts cheering and Jake jumps up and down, not bothering to call the foul even though he’s supposed to be reffing.

She jogs back to Keith and offers him her hand up, smiling wickedly. There’s dirt ground into the scrape that’s running from her ankle to her thigh from the slide and her shorts are filthy and Keith is a little dumbfounded. He lets her pull him to his feet. “You did your research,” she says, “so you knew I went to Oxford, and I told you my parents were from England.”

“Yeah?”

“I played a lot of football during the summers I spent there,” she says dismissively, still with that smile.

“I have been schooled,” he admits with a grin. He realizes that they’re still holding each other’s hands and he lets her fingers slip from his.

“Quit flirting!” Jay shouts and Amy turns to glare at him.

Keith laughs and jogs back up the field.

**

Word gets out after that and by the time they’re grading essays in the last few hellish days before grades are due to be submitted, Amy feels like everyone knows.

She doesn’t know how to deal with that.

She looks up from her spot in the big-comfy-chair and glares at Keith. She’s felt him watching her for the past few minutes and her patience has worn thin. “What,” she snaps.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You seem tense. Actually, you’ve seemed tense for awhile.”

This is why she usually avoids people as emotionally perceptive as him. “I’m fine,” she says again, so curtly she knows it sounds anything but fine.

“We’re almost done here,” he says. “Why don’t we go out to dinner afterward to toast our semester? And finally finishing _this_.” He gestures at the precarious stacks of exams.

“I--” she starts. He says it like this is normal. This _is_ normal. This has become normal for them. Without ever talking about it they’ve settled into a relationship. It had begun even before they’d started having sex and Amy hadn’t even realized it. So she does the only thing she can think of. She stalls. “Let me finish these,” she says.

Something flickers in the tightening of Keith’s brow. It’s concern, maybe, but all he says is, “Okay.”

She works through the last three exams, grading them against the rubric and trying to focus. 

“What’s going on?” he prompts as soon as she’s done. She knew he was waiting for her to finish and it’s made her want to leave the office that much more. She feels trapped, hemmed in by his concern and his expectations and everything else she’s been trying not to think about until now.

“Nothing. I should probably go pack.”

“You don’t want to go to dinner? I mean, we could go tomorrow, but--”

“I’m leaving anyway,” she says stiffly as she reorganizes the exams.

“Well-- yeah, I know you’re leaving. It’s been pretty on my mind, actually,” he says with disbelief that’s not quite edging into sarcasm yet. “Isn’t that all the more reason we should go out? Enjoy our night? It’ll be awhile before we’ll see each other again,” he points out. 

As though she doesn’t know.

“And then what?” she says. “We see each other for a few days, maybe, and then you’re back here, or back at Berkeley, and I’m in New York. We could never make that work.”

“Amy--”

“This was never a relationship,” she says.

“So, what, then, you never thought this could go anywhere?” She’s seen him control his temper before, talking to other professors, talking to students, or that one time he’d stepped on his own shoelace and almost fell in the quad. She’s not sure she’s ever seen him quite this upset, though. “If you’d told me that, fine. But you didn’t. And that first night? Fine. I didn’t really know what to expect so when you smiled and left I was okay with that. But the next time, you stayed. You didn’t have to, but you did. I fell asleep and I thought you’d be gone when I woke up, and I wasn’t okay with that but I would’ve talked to you about it later. Then when I woke up you were still there. Sometimes you’d leave and sometimes you’d stay and that’s fine, and maybe I should’ve had this conversation with you sooner, but--”

She holds a hand up. “There’s no conversation to have.”

“There isn’t because you’re being stubborn and refusing to give it a chance! Once is a hookup, but three weeks? That starts to mean something. Or I thought it did, at least.”

She drops her hand. “I might be stubborn, but at least I’m not clingy,” she says coldly.

Keith sits back down. “If you’re going to do this, just go.”

She has another argument on the tip of her tongue but she’s too angry to resist walking out when the opportunity is there. She shuts the door behind her without another word.

She leaves two days later without a goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: I actually had this finished before the finale and was just proofreading it, so the accidental dating was here before the accidental dating was canon. My writey-senses were detecting the approach of that trope, I guess. 
> 
> Second of all: I would've developed Jake as not-a-complete-but-rather-just-a-partial moron if this had been longer, but since it isn't just know he's a dipshit but has a good heart. Like Ray. How coincidental.


	6. Chapter 6

A week goes by and she settles back into life in New York. Then she wakes up to a text. 

[Keith Hewson][4:54:14am]  
I’m sorry.

She sets her phone back down. She should apologize. It’s not his fault. She’s so, so angry, but she’s adult enough to acknowledge that it’s not Keith she’s angry at.

She doesn’t respond.

A week later she gets another.

[Keith Hewson][8:45:18am]  
I know you don’t want to talk, but I don’t want to leave things like this.

Guilt is hot in her chest and she ignores the message.

A week after that she gets a calendar invite. 

 [to:a.brenner@nyufac.edu]  
[from: keith.hewson@bti.edu.rom]  
[Subject: Keith Hewson has shared a Calendar Inv…]  
Event Details  
JFK Interntl  
Flight 634  
Gate 16A  


She reads it through before clicking on the event. He’s flying in tomorrow morning. He’s given her just enough time to think about going.

**

The arrival area is loud and Amy stands with her hands shoved into her pockets as she lets the people stream around her. She’s perfectly on time. Early, even. She tries not to think about why.

His flight is the next on the board and she watches as people begin to come down the escalator, groups in fits and starts before they become a steady stream. 

As he crests the top of the escalator she sees that he’s looking for her. It’s a long moment when people continue to part around her as the escalator crawls downward before he catches sight of her, waiting, nervous. He smiles, softly, as if they hadn’t left things like they did. She doesn’t smile back but she does take a step forward.

She keeps her eyes on him and doesn’t fight through the crowd to get to him but when he’s a few steps away she strides forward and reaches for him, slipping one hand behind his neck, the other across his shoulders, and pulls him down to kiss him. The messenger bag he’s carrying slung over his shoulder bumps into her hip as she rises on her toes to meet him. Keith gasps through his nose and lets go of his carryon immediately, one arm going around her waist, the other to her shoulders and he leans into the kiss, putting her feet flat on the ground again.

Someone wolf whistles behind them and a few people cheer and start clapping.

“You're kinda giving me mixed messages here,” he says when Amy lets him go. His eyes are smiling but she doesn't smile back. 

“I'm sorry,” she says. They both know she isn't talking about mixed messages. 

“You're here, though,” he points out. 

She furrows her brow. “Why are _you_ here?”

“I'm interviewing for that job at NYU.”

She nods. She's afraid he won't get it. She's afraid he will get it. She's a mess and she knows it. 

“I shouldn't have said what I did,” she says.

“Me neither.”

“I started it though,” she admits, almost petulantly.

“I should've taken a more… constructive approach to that conversation. We hadn't talked about it before and I knew you'd be uncomfortable with it, but I didn't think it through.”

She looks away.

“Amy,” he says. She look up at him again. “I would’ve come here for you, but I knew you wouldn’t want me to. But I’m here by a lucky coincidence and judging by the fact that you just kissed me _really_ thoroughly, I’m guessing you're glad to see me.”

She smiles. “Yeah,” she admits, more shyly than she would have liked.

“Yeah?” He’s smiling and she knows he’s teasing her to make her more comfortable with the admission.

“Yeah,” she affirms.

He kisses her in the middle of the arrival terminal as they stand in the way of everyone coming down the escalator.

The same person whistles again behind them and Amy turns to give them a piece of her mind but Keith keeps his hold on her. “Ignore him,” he laughs, kissing her again to distract her. 

She breaks the kiss to rest her temple against his shoulder and moves her arms to his waist so she’s hugging him. “I don’t want to lose this,” she says.

“I don’t either.”

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“That’s okay.” He steps back from her just a bit so their arms are still around each other but he can see her face. “Let’s go to dinner-- or breakfast, I guess, in this time zone,” he laughs. “We can talk all of this through.”

Amy pulls a face. “Talking,” she says drily, “my favorite.”

Keith smiles. “I know, but it’s worth it.”

“Yeah. It is.” She smiles and she knows it’s still shy but it feels real. 

**

Two weeks pass and Amy thinks she might actually be happy.

When they showed up at the restaurant there was an hour wait, so Keith had just put his name on the list and towed Amy back out the door again.

“Where are we going?” she’d groused.

“We’re going to get dessert first, because you’re hangry and you’re no fun when you’re hangry.”

“Fair,” she’d muttered.

So here they are, sitting on the uncomfortable metal chairs under the lit umbrella beneath the hazy lavender twilight fading over the city. Amy knows it’s mostly because of the smog, but it’s still beautiful. Keith isn't looking at it, though, he’s looking at her.

“What?” she says as she stabs the spoon back into her ice cream.

“Nothing,” he says with a smile. His phone rings and he sets his ice cream cup on the table. “Hello?” Amy watches him. “Yes, this is he.” She watches him, green gaze unrelenting, and he tries to ignore her. “Yes, I-- absolutely. Okay, perfect; I'll be there.” He pauses for a moment. “Thank you.” 

He hangs up and stares at his ice cream, watching as the sprinkles melt into multicolored splotches.

“What?” Amy says, setting her own cup down, clearly concerned. 

“I got the job.”

“You what?!”

“I got the job!” 

They both jump out of their seats at the same time and she hugs him around the chest so tight it's difficult for him to laugh but he does anyway. He hugs her back and holds her just as tightly. 

She knows he'll have a lot to do for this adjustment. He has to move his stuff out of storage in California and get it to New York. He has to find an apartment, because they both know they're nowhere near ready to move in together, even if he's been sleeping-- or not sleeping-- at her apartment these past few days instead of at the hotel he'd booked. 

She leans back. “I’m so happy,” she says and she’s smiling.

“Yeah?” he asks, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.

“Yeah. I’m happy for you. And I’m happy for us,” she says, gesturing between them. He smiles.

She kisses him and when someone on the street whistles, she ignores it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. 
> 
> What'll come next? More of _Remember You_? A new 5+1? The first part of the Projekt™? We'll see.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a project.


End file.
